the Fire and the Ice
by forevernever030
Summary: She's the survivor. He's the killer. This is the story of them fixing each other. One-shot.


**Katniss**

In daylight, I can forget. I keep myself busy. Hunting, fishing, cooking, cleaning, eating, and tying knots. I concentrate on working. That makes my body numb from the pain.

But at midnight, when I lay on my bed, staring at the bare ceiling of my bedroom, I'm helpless. Wrapped around the white sheet, I try to chase the thought about him away. When my eyes are opened, I realize that the world without him is so bare. So I close my eyes, but flashbacks of him come to me like nightmares. Worse than nightmares. Because it's simple to get out of a nightmare. But it's not the same with flashbacks.

I see his soft blonde hair ruffling in the air as he watches me hunt. I see his blue eyes concentrating on his painting. I see him giving me a slice of bread he just baked. I see him everywhere, but I don't see him.

When the night is hot, I go to the living room and open the window, sitting down and leaning against it. I look at the stars and pray that one of them is his. That if I look closely enough, I'll be able to see his face shining in the sky. But I never see him. He's dead, and I have to face it. I'll never see him laughing at my comments anymore. It's so hard to face the truth. Because the truth is something that doesn't change. It's cold and hard, unwilling to let us change it. But sometimes, I just hope. A hope that truth stops from being possible.

The pain never stops. And I don't think it ever will. It doesn't even lessen. It's a kind of pain that painkillers can't help. It's just that your body adapts. Numbing your body. But I'm scared of that too. Because pain is the only thing that proves that he ever existed.

The images of him prevents me from sleeping, but I'm relieved. Because every time I finally fall asleep, he appears. I wake up, screaming in horror, and he'll rush to my side. All the time, I want to tell him to stay with me like I did with him before, but I don't. Afraid of what his answer would be. Afraid what his voice would sound like. I never turn the lights on. Because I'm afraid to see his face. That it wouldn't be what I expected. So instead, I talk. Feeling the warmth seeping into my body. Feeling the love filling in my heart, chasing my fear and pain away.

* * *

 **Cato**

She's broken. I'm broken. Everyone is. Even the Capitol people. It's just that they don't realize it. In my bedroom, I hear her choking on her tears. Before the game ended, I've never thought she had tears with her. It turns out, she does. She just tries to conceal them. But when she's alone, she's not the girl I know; too weak, too vulnerable, too broken. Like the rest of us.

When I hear the silence, I know that she's asleep. But I also know that it's not over. I wait for her to scream his name. And when she does, I quietly run to her side, and lie beside her. I wrap my arms around her trembling body, and she whispers his name. She doesn't want me to talk. Because she's afraid that I'm not him. I go along with it, pretending to be the boy she loves so much, but I know. That she realizes that he's dead. That she knows that it's me, the killer, not the boy with warm heart. But it's better to pretend. After all, most of our lives are made of lies. So why not lie to your heart? So we don't say a word about it.

"Peeta," she always talks to me , her voice low and quiet. "I missed you. It's good to have you here."

I even hold my breath, worried that she might recognize my breath.

"Sometimes, I wish I'm dead like you. So that I can hear your voice. But god, I can imagine how mad you'll be if I kill myself."

She sighs, and presses closer to me.

"The bread. I've never thanked you properly for that."

She's talking about the time when he threw her a burnt bread. I know it because I watched the tape of our games.

"I never got along with people well. Except for Gale. And you. You always made me smile, though you were kinda annoying when you were walking so loudly in the games."

She laughs at her own comment, her mind probably going through that memory.

"So many years left until I can be with you... I mean, yeah, I'm talking to you, but still. I want to hear your soft voice. Your laughter. That smile."

Fire Girl longing for someone's smile? It's weird to hear her saying this.

"I love you," she whispers.

For a second, I actually believes that she meant it for me, and my heart skips a beat. But then again, she believes that I'm the baker boy. Or more like, wants to believe.

She keeps talking, wrapped in my arms. About her family. Her past. Her life. Her future. About winning. About Panem. About the games and deaths.

I don't know why I do this every night. At first, I did it because I saw my younger self in her. Shivering from terror and loss. But now, I'm not sure anymore. She's the one I tried to kill just a few years ago, and I'm the one she aimed her arrows at. She's the one who loved the boy, and I'm the one who killed him. A survivor and a killer. They never get along with each other well. But we understand now. There are much more things to hate, pain to wash away, and games to play. And the Hunger Games, that's all we can take on right now. So instead of breaking each other, we fix each other. Every night. Me embracing her, her telling me stories. So that someday, we can finally forget. What they did and what we did. Because even if you're the only one left in the planet, you'll still have tomorrow to root for.

* * *

 **Katniss**

I need to face it. Even though it's hard, I need to overcome the pain. Yes, I'm broken. But I have Prim. My mom. Gale. And him. _Cato_. Not Peeta. I knew it this whole time. But even though I've fed the family ever since I was young, even though I've survived in the arena, even though I've survived President Snow's pretty little games, I was so weak. So afraid.

But I have a life to live. And this, after all, is another game made by Snow. And like Peeta's mom told me, I'm a survivor. I can survive this. I'm broken, yes. But I still someone who can fix me, and someone who I can fix. And that's what we all do. Fix each other. We are all broken after all. So when the night is silent and the air is cool, I finally conquer the truth.

"Stay with me," I tell him. " _Cato_."


End file.
